Escalation
by ChibiAyane
Summary: The Watcher (2000). David Allen Griffin, serial strangler, just lets his obsessions go with the flow, but something's just not quite right. So he fixes it, much to Joel Campbell the FBI Agent's dismay. Non-con ahead!


I've had this unfinished fic floating around from computer to computer for YEARS! I finally got up the gumption to finish it. This is for you, SlasherFiend14!

This movie is so underappreciated it's upsetting! T_T I weep for all the missed chances for fanfic... just because the movie is too old. It was made in 2000 and it's a Keanu Reeves movie for pete's sake! You'd think more people would like it.

If you decide to watch it, you won't regret it!

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Two days had passed since he had failed to save Ellie Buckner, two days since he had failed to catch Griffin outside the restaurant. Two days and no new photo had come in the mail. That was to be expected, the killer usually took his time to stalk his prey before he killed them.

Joel Campbell sat in his kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, drinking coffee and trying to stave off another migraine. Caffeine was usually good for keeping migraines at bay.

However, it didn't seem to be working this time. He could feel the throbbing starting in his temple, the light of the late afternoon sun was starting to hurt to look at, but he didn't want to resort to the migraine meds just yet. He couldn't keep taking that as often as he had been. It was only meant for debilitating migraines. At the moment, it was just an annoying throb behind his eyes, it didn't warrant him running for a needle just yet. Instead, he decided to just go lay down, maybe take a nap.

He padded into his bedroom on his bare feet and shut his shades, then flopped onto his bed, not bothering to change out of his loose jeans and t-shirt. He closed his eyes, as the throbbing started to worsen. He hated migraines. It hurt to see, hear and even smell when one presented, yet the damn things just seemed to enhance those senses, making them impossible to withstand.

Right now he could hear the cars and noise of the city below like it was all being screeched into his ears with a bullhorn, he could see the sun blinding him through his shades and closed eyelids and smell whatever it was his neighbor was cooking like it was right under his nose. It smelled like fish. He felt his stomach starting to roil in disgust and nausea, which comes with every bad migraine, was quickly starting to wash over him.

He turned over onto his side, facing away from the bright shade-covered window and buried his head under his pillow. It didn't help much, but at least it blocked out the light and some of the sound.

He wasn't sure when he fell asleep but he woke up sometime later, it was dark outside and he couldn't think of what it was that had woken him up. He sat up, his head reminding him that he still had a migraine, though it was back down to a dull throb instead of a piercing agony.

He picked his pillow up off the floor from where it had fallen and put it back on the bed, then looked out his bedroom door. He knew something woke him, a noise of some kind. He glanced at the clock beside his bed and saw that it was after ten. Damn, the restaurant closed an hour ago and he hadn't eaten anything yet.

He heard a creak of the floorboards and immediately stood up. He walked slowly out of his bedroom and into the hall, looking around to see what had made the noise - if it was from in his apartment or one of his neighbors. He couldn't really tell where it had come from, but his neighbors weren't usually awake at this time of night, the neighbors on either side of him being early risers.

He walked down the hall, glancing into the bathroom, then walked into the living room, glancing into the kitchen. He didn't see anything, so he turned around and looked all around the living room. Nothing. He heard another creak of wood right behind him and spun around. He saw a shadow in the corner of his kitchen that moved as soon as he looked at it. He froze.

"Hi, Joel," came a familiar voice.

"Griffin," Joel said in realization.

The serial strangler, David Allen Griffin, took a few slow steps toward the FBI profiler, which only made Joel take a few steps back. Griffin chuckled. "Relax, Joel, I'm not going to kill you. Yet."

Joel squinted, trying to get a better look at the man in the little light that spilled into the room from the streetlamps outside.

"What do you want?" he asked, his hand twitching to reach for his gun - that he realized was not on his person, but in his bedroom under the side table where he kept it when not on duty. His cell phone was beside it. He only had two phones hooked up to the landline, one in his bedroom, along with his gun and cell phone, and one which was hooked up in the kitchen behind Griffin. So, calls for help were out. He hadn't missed the softly spoken "Yet." that the man had added, which meant he still had very much to worry about with this killer being in his apartment.

"To talk," Griffin answered, taking another step forward, allowing his face to be illuminated in the dim light.

Joel stared at him, not surprised in the least that this man was attractive since he had been able to lure so many women to their deaths. There was a natural and deadly charm about him that Joel knew to be wary of.

"Somehow I doubt I'm going to want to hear what you have to say," Joel said, glancing through the door of his bathroom and across to the door that led to his bedroom and his gun. "Unless you're going to talk about giving yourself up," he added hopefully.

Griffin snorted, grinning and shaking his head. "No."

Knowing that this wasn't going to end well, whether he humored the man with conversation or not, Joel jumped. As fast as he could, he vaulted over the couch, jumped over the coffee table and ran towards his bedroom. Griffin was hot on his heels, giggling as he tackled the profiler to the ground just a few feet short of the table where his gun was hidden.

Joel was all elbows and knees, trying to get away from the larger man. Griffin tried to pin him down on his stomach, but Joel thrashed and yanked himself free, then lunged for the gun.

He'd barely wrapped his hand around the grip when Griffin pulled him back, making him growl and drop the heavy weapon onto the floor. Griffin dragged him away from the gun, grunting as Joel kept kicking and putting up a fight.

Joel's hands scrabbled at the floor, as he kicked at Griffin with his heels. Joel swung an elbow back and hit the killer in the face. Griffin grunted and fell back, more surprised than he was hurt by it, though he may end up with a shiner. Joel took the opportunity to throw himself forward and grab his gun.

There was a rustling sound of Griffin pulling something from his pocket and, just as Joel gripped his gun again and flicked off the safety, something thin and cold wrapped tightly around his throat.

Joel's sudden panic caused him to drop his gun and instead reach for the wire that was blocking off his airway and cutting into the skin of his neck. He could feel his blood making the wire slick and begin to drip down his neck and onto his shirt.

Griffin looped the wire around Joel's neck one more time, then put both ends of the wire into one hand, so he could put his other arm around Joel's waist and pull him up and onto his knees. He held his feisty profiler against his chest and continued to pull the wire tight.

"You couldn't make this easy, could you?" Griffin hissed into Joel's ear. "You know, I had every intention of coming here and being gentle with you, but you just had to go for the gun!"

Joel choked and fought for breath, as he tried to pull the wire away, but he couldn't even get ahold of it while it was embedded into the vulnerable flesh of his throat, slick with his blood. He tried to reach behind him to punch or smack Griffin or stab him in the eyes with his fingers or jab him in the nose - something to get the man to let go! - but Griffin was well practiced at avoiding flailing limbs while he was strangling someone.

"You look good like this, Joel," Griffin practically moaned against his cheek. "Your face a perfect mask of terror, your eyes turning red with broken blood vessels as you try to breathe, your mouth opening wider and wider, as though that'll help you get any oxygen. I've seen a lot of people look like this, Joel, but none of them looked as... tantalizing as you do." He waited for Joel's arms and body to sag before he let go of the wire.

He let Joel fall onto his side and gasp a deep rattling breath into his burning lungs, Joel's hands going to his bleeding neck as he coughed and wheezed. The killer turned Joel over onto his stomach and grabbed his arms to tie his shaking wrists behind his back with the wire that he'd just been using to strangle the man.

"No!" Joel rasped through his damaged throat when he realized what he was doing. He tried to pull his hands out of Griffin's grip, but his limbs felt heavy and weak from oxygen deprivation. He didn't have the strength to put up another fight. Griffin only chuckled and continued with tying Joel's wrists. The wire didn't feel any better on his wrists than it did on his throat, the unforgiving metal cutting into him.

Joel leaned his forehead against the floor, panting in precious air to try to get his breath and strength back. He wriggled and tried to get his hands free, but it hurt too much to do so. The sound of Griffin rustling in his pockets again and then the ripping sound of duct tape made Joel start fighting again, despite his near asphyxiation. He struggled to get his wrists untied even though it was painful, while also trying to squirm away from the psychopath that was straddling his waist.

Griffin slithered down and grabbed Joel's ankles, taping them together and wrapping them several times in duct tape, before he tore it off. He turned Joel over again and sat on the FBI agent's chest, ripping off another small piece of duct tape. He tossed the roll aside and held the small piece between his fingers like he was going to put it over Joel's mouth.

Griffin grinned down at Joel, just waiting for the agent to say something or to yell for help, but when Joel only stared at the tape in his hands, swallowed thickly and glanced up at him, Griffin just grinned wider and put the tape over his mouth anyway. Joel sighed through his nose.

Joel's personal stalker then stood up and pulled Joel up off the floor. For a few moments, he held Joel against him in a mockery of a loving embrace. Joel's head was resting on his shoulder, and Griffin had his arms low around the smaller man's waist. Joel was still trying to get his breath back, breathing heavily through his nose. Griffin hummed and swayed side to side a few times, then sighed.

"I wish you had a stereo," Griffin said wistfully. "I wish I'd thought to bring one." He flung Joel onto the bed. Joel winced as he landed on his arms and the wire around his wrists jostled, cutting deeper into his skin. "Guess I was too excited to make sure I had all the bases covered."

Griffin adjusted Joel, so he was laying on the bed right, with his head on the pillow. Then he took his leather jacket off and tossed it onto the foot of the bed before he got up onto the bed himself and straddled Joel's hips. He smiled at his prey, who had no choice but to do nothing and glare up at him.

"I suppose you're wondering just what I'm doing here tonight," Griffin said. "I would be, too, if I were you. You're probably thinking I should be out looking for the next girl to send you a photo of. I mean, I did make it seem like there would be many of them after that phone call." He sighed. "But it's not enough anymore. Ellie had been fun, but the high didn't last as long as I thought it would. Didn't last as long as I needed it to. What is it you profilers call it? Escalation? What could that mean for me, huh?" He leaned over and put his gloved hands on either side of Joel's head. "Well, I've been following you around. Shouldn't that have been your first clue, Joel?"

Joel hummed and shifted, as though he wanted to get away, but Griffin just held his shoulders down. "Don't worry, Joel. I know what you're thinking. You think I'm going to kill you slowly, like the few girls I had the time to enjoy playing with, but I'm not. Not yet. You see, I've realized something. If the girls aren't enough anymore, then the killing isn't enough either. I think it started to come together back in LA after you left. I couldn't get the game going like it had been with you. The agent they replaced you with just didn't have the right... rhythm. So, I've concluded that it has to be you playing my game." He smiled his charming toothy smile and leaned down, kissing Joel over the duct tape. He trailed feather-light kisses over Joel's face, as he spoke. "And killing you would make the game end, the dance would be over and the beat would go flat. Life would be boring without you. I don't want our dance to end yet, Joel, but the beat does need to be faster."

Griffin put his face in Joel's neck, licking at the cuts he'd made with the wire, as he let his hands wander down Joel's chest. He shoved his hands up and under Joel's shirt, leather-clad fingers dragging the cotton up to Joel's armpits and exposing the smaller man's bare chest. Griffin felt Joel freeze and heard his breath pick up. He sat up and looked Joel in the eyes. He saw they were wide and fearful, his pupils merely pinpoints. He realized his seasoned FBI agent was starting to panic.

Joel had never thought David Allen Griffin would go so far as to touch him like this. He was afraid of how far he would really go. Would he stop at touching? Or would he do more?

He'd never profiled Griffin as a rapist, but like Griffin said; he was escalating, and rapidly so. There may have never been any sign of sexual assault or activity with Griffin's previous victims or anywhere in their homes, but that didn't mean that Griffin hadn't gotten off on it. That didn't mean he hadn't gone elsewhere to attend to his needs afterward. With how meticulous he was about not leaving any evidence behind, he wouldn't have stayed to do that. He would have waited until he was away from prying eyes and ears, somewhere he wouldn't get caught, somewhere there wouldn't be a crime scene unit collecting forensic evidence in the near future.

One would think that Griffin would be straight since he's only targeted women in the past, but there is always a margin for error and oversight when profiling intelligent psychopaths. Like bisexuality. It was very possible that Griffin was bisexual. He's only gone after women because typically they're easier targets. Easier to overpower, easier to manipulate, easier to control. Joel knew that eventually strangling girls wouldn't be enough, but he never dreamed Griffin would turn around and target the male agent on his case.

He knew that, at first, Griffin had been watching him in LA to see what he was made of, to see what he was like, to see how well he could do his job. Then when Joel had met Lisa, Joel's attention was drawn away from his work, away from Griffin, which in turn focused Griffin's attention on her.

Griffin's obsession had probably started then. He'd become accustomed to having Joel's undivided attention, and didn't realize how much he needed it until he didn't have it anymore. He didn't like how Joel's focus was drawn away by Lisa. So he killed her.

But then Joel left, and Griffin escalated for the first time by following Joel when his replacement hadn't met Griffin's standards. He came to Chicago to find Joel and to continue what they'd been doing before, but he'd found that too much time had passed, too much had changed and his addiction for the rush of sparring wits with Joel had only grown. His obsession with playing games with Joel had increased. His need for Joel's attention had become stronger.

He simply couldn't keep things going the way they were, it wasn't enough. Something had to change and, if it wasn't his counterpart that could be changed, it had to be the choice of victim.

His obsession with playing games with Joel had escalated into simply an obsession with Joel. Period. So, Joel had come to the conclusion that, yes, David Allen Griffin could very well turn into a rapist. Especially if he had the object of his obsession tied up and pinned underneath him.

Little did Joel know that Griffin really had been getting himself off after his kills - while sitting in stolen cars and watching Joel from afar. No matter what Joel was doing, Griffin would take himself into his hand and imagine Joel writhing beneath him.

Griffin took Joel's earlobe into his mouth and gave it a nip, as one hand flicked at one of the agent's nipples, making Joel grunt against the tape. Joel felt Griffin smile against his ear. Then Griffin's fingers grabbed his nipple and twisted it, making Joel yelp through the tape and wriggle.

"You're so sensitive," Griffin said, glee in his voice. "That's going to make this so much better."

Griffin sat up and ripped the tape off of Joel's mouth. Joel winced as he felt the tape rip off some of the dry skin from his lips. Then Griffin smashed their lips together hard before Joel even had the chance to say anything. He took his time devouring the agent's mouth, savoring the flavor that was purely Joel. Joel tried to turn his face away to break the kiss, but Griffin threaded his leather-clad fingers into Joel's hair and held his head in place with both hands.

Griffin forced his tongue in and teased Joel's, poking down the agent's throat, almost making Joel gag. The sounds Griffin was making, as the kiss turned more desperate and violent, terrified Joel. Sounds that only confirmed how much the man on top of him was enjoying this. Joel could feel just how much he was enjoying this poking into his hip. Griffin kept biting and sucking on Joel's mouth, bruising the smaller man's lips and even drawing blood.

When one of Griffin's hands left his hair and traveled down to the fly of Joel's jeans, Joel started struggling again, trying to turn his hips away from Griffin's questing hand or to roll the other man off of him, but none of it made any difference. Joel tensed up the moment his jeans were opened and Griffin's hand snaked its way inside. Griffin swallowed Joel's yelp, as the killer's hand wrapped around his soft member.

Griffin hummed and massaged the flesh in his hand, making Joel moan softly against his lips. He pulled away. "That's it, Joel," he coaxed. "I want you to enjoy this."

"Stop," Joel muttered through his sore throat. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Please..."

Griffin's other hand moved to Joel's throat and pressed on his windpipe gently, a not-so-subtle warning of what would happen if Joel got any louder. Cold, dark eyes stared at Joel, as a warm gloved hand massaged and stroked him. Joel was ashamed to find he was getting hard.

It had been a long time since anyone touched him this way, he hadn't even touched himself like this in months. He'd been too depressed. What his body was doing was just a natural reaction to stimulation, but telling himself that gave him little comfort.

Once Joel's cock was hard enough for his liking, Griffin suddenly took his hand away. He reached over and opened the drawer in the side table. His hand fished around until he pulled out a pair of scissors that had been buried in there.

How had he known that was there? Joel's heart pounded harder as he realized that Griffin had been in his apartment before. Probably several times, judging by his familiarity with his surroundings.

"What are you doing?" Joel asked, his voice shaking a little. Griffin used the scissors to cut away Joel's shirt. "Don't..." Joel tried to move away from the sharp scissors.

The serial killer continued to his jeans and finally, his boxers, the shreds of fabric tossed to the floor with the scissors. The obsessed strangler stared down at Joel in all his glory, making Joel actually blush at the attention, as his eyes roved over his naked flesh. Griffin's eyes landed on every blemish and nuance of Joel's body.

Admiring the freckles, the light ginger body hair, even the large purple bruise from his constant injections. He even enjoyed the bit of flab that Joel had acquired over his period of inactivity. None of it took away from his allure.

Griffin licked his lips and moved to spread Joel's knees. Or at least he tried to, having to fight Joel, who was using every ounce of strength he could muster to keep them closed.

"No!" Joel said, trying desperately to keep his legs together and deny Griffin access to the most vulnerable parts of his body.

Griffin only grinned and yanked Joel's legs apart, then quickly settled himself between them, Joel's bound ankles coming to rest at the small of his back. The crazed man reached down to undo his own pants, pulling his rock hard erection out. Joel's eyes widened and he shifted, trying not to show his rising panic.

Oh god, Griffin was really going to do it!

"Please, don't do this," Joel said, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.

"Ssh," Griffin hushed, putting a finger to Joel's lips. Joel closed his mouth, not wanting to spur Griffin into doing something to make him shut up. Griffin canted his hips forward and rubbed himself against Joel, his hand going down to wrap around both of their girths together.

Joel had to bite back a moan. He was not going to give this man the satisfaction of thinking he would enjoy this in any way!

Griffin didn't hold back, however. He tilted his head up, groaning deeply. He ground his hips against Joel's as he moved his hand on their cocks.

Joel closed his eyes, he didn't want to see how much pleasure Griffin was getting from this. He hated how powerless he felt. He could scream for help if he wanted to, but he was still at Griffin's mercy. He didn't want to find out what the mad man would do if Joel were to call attention to them.

Griffin kept stroking their lengths, while he reached back with his free hand to grab his jacket and fish through one of the pockets. He pulled out a tube of lubricant and a package of condoms, that he'd bought specifically with Joel in mind.

He'd originally planned to just fuck him dry and bare but he didn't want to break this toy just yet and he still didn't want to leave evidence behind, even if he knew they wouldn't find anything to match his DNA to.

It would be such sweet torture for Joel, to be forced to actually enjoy what he was going to do to him.

He popped the lid on the tube with one hand, the other still stroking their flesh, and squeezed a generous amount onto Joel's belly, right over the bruise. He dropped the tube on the bed and pressed his fingers into the bruise, coating his gloved fingers in the cold substance and making Joel whimper in pain. Joel saw what Griffin was doing and sighed in frustration.

"Griffin, please, don't," Joel tried again. He was ignored and Griffin reached his slicked fingers down between them and pressed them against the tight muscle of Joel's ass. "G-Griffin... David! Stop!"

Griffin moaned at the sound of his name on Joel's lips. He looked Joel in the eyes. "Say it again," he demanded, as he pushed a finger into the FBI agent underneath him.

Pain shot up Joel's spine and he panted, his breath catching in discomfort. "If I do, will you stop?" he gritted.

Griffin didn't answer him, only pushed another finger in, almost violently. Joel cried out at the intrusion, his back arching off the bed. Griffin's hand left their cocks and reached up to wrap around Joel's throat, squeezing it to keep Joel from making any more noise. Joel choked, as he tried to thrash, to somehow get Griffin to let go. Griffin kept a hold of him, pushing a third finger in to roughly scissor Joel open.

Joel's mouth gaped as he kept trying to breathe. He could take small wheezing breaths, so he knew Griffin wasn't trying to kill him, just keep him quiet but he couldn't get a deep enough breath and he was starting to get light-headed.

Griffin pulled his fingers out of Joel. He loosened his grip around Joel's throat, letting him take a deep gasping breath. He stroked Joel's throat with his thumb in warning and used his other hand to grab a condom. He tore the package open with his teeth, then spit the wrapper onto the floor, as he rolled the condom onto his prick. He pulled Joel's leg up, as he positioned himself at Joel's entrance.

Joel's eyes were wide as he began to struggle again. "No!" Joel begged, his voice raspy and hitching.

Griffin smiled, breathing heavily with excitement, and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Joel's lips. He pulled away and his smile turned wicked, before he pressed down harder on Joel's windpipe, blocking off his air again, and bucked his hips forward. He sheathed himself completely inside Joel in one hard thrust. Joel's mouth opened in a silent scream, as the pain washed over him. Sure, Griffin had prepared him, but his cock was huge compared to his fingers and Joel had never done anything like this before!

Once the initial painful penetration was completed, Griffin let go of Joel's throat, letting him breathe again. Griffin moaned, slipping his eyes shut for a moment, as he just enjoyed the feeling of Joel's body squeezing around him. "Tight," Griffin murmured, as he opened his eyes and grinned gleefully down at Joel. He pressed his forehead to Joel's, his grin widening. "Try to stay quiet." With that, he pulled out of Joel, only to slam back in.

Joel had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming in pain. He didn't know what would happen once Griffin was done with him, but at the moment he knew interrupting the psychopath would only result in his death. So, he stayed quiet, or as quiet as possible.

Griffin started a slow but deep rhythm into Joel, enjoying every sensation.

He should have done this sooner.

The anticipation before he caught Joel was intoxicating; sneaking into the apartment, watching Joel sleep, snooping around and waiting in the shadows. Then the rush of excitement when Joel woke up when he and Joel saw each other. He loved the look of fear in Joel's eyes as they sized each other up, he loved the chase into the bedroom even more. Grabbing Joel and wrestling him into submission, tying the FBI agent up, strangling him for a few moments; it all made his dick rock hard.

He'd been watching Joel with an appreciative eye for so long, only using his kills to keep them tied to each other. Honestly, he stopped caring about the girls a long time ago. It's all been about Joel.

He stared down at his profiler's pained grimace and the lip he was biting to stop himself from screaming. He was beautiful like this. And he was all his. He wished he could keep Joel like this forever, but knew he couldn't.

Morning would come, Joel would be expected at work. People would come looking for him if he didn't show. He couldn't take Joel with him, although it was tempting to kidnap the profiler.

Griffin wrapped both hands around Joel's throat and squeezed. He thrust his hips harder and faster, grinding into Joel as he watched his eyes widen in terror, his mouth opening wide with the instinctual need to breathe. No breath was allowed through.

Griffin groaned as he fucked Joel hard. He was almost there. His fun had to end for the night, he had to be gone by morning because the building would be crawling with cops and FBI agents whether Joel was there or not.

He squeezed harder. It was tempting, so tempting, to kill Joel. But he didn't want that. A few more thrusts and he was coming harder than he ever had before. He held his breath for a few moments, as he emptied himself into the condom. He gasped when it ended, looking down at Joel, whose lips were turning blue. His blood all over his gloved hands from fingers digging cruelly into fresh lacerations in Joel's flesh.

Griffin didn't let go. He watched as Joel's eyes began to roll into the back of his head. He waited a few moments, then finally did let go.

He waited patiently for a breath to finally wheeze into Joel's body before he pulled out of the man's body and got up off the bed. He looked at his handiwork. Joel's naked and bruised body, bleeding and sweating, his cock long since gone soft.

Griffin picked up the landline phone and dialed the FBI field office, bringing the phone to hover near his ear. When a tired voice finally answered, Griffin chuckled. He enjoyed the cat and mouse.

"Joel is in need of some medical attention," Griffin growled into the phone, grin firmly planted on his face.

"Who is this?" the voice asked.

"You're Mitch, right?" He reached his free hand to brush Joel's hair back off his face. "Better hurry, before I change my mind and take him with me." He smirked when he heard muffled voices speaking rapidly in the background.

"Can you put Agent Campbell on the phone, please?" Mitch asked.

Griffin hung up.

End.


End file.
